Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Chapter Seven Mireya

I’m sitting in the break room at the hotel reading over my study guide before my shift starts. I use my front teeth to scrape off the pink gel polish on my fingernails. A nervous habit I adopted in elementary school. I’d scrape off the polish and then spit out the gel residue. Over and over again, until I removed all the polish from every fingernail. It was weird. I know. The habit was only one step above eating Tide pods, but I couldn’t stop now. Not with the tests I had coming up, and Adrian’s presence here at the hotel as a constant distraction. The stress is accumulating.

“I’m sorry… do I know you?”

It’s been three days since Adrian returned, and he is still acting like I’m some stranger. Thalia has been on edge since his return. At least I’m not the only one he’s ignoring. Thalia has used her frustration as an excuse to go into Enrique’s office and start a fight with her uncle. I listen as she walks in and demands to know why the hotel is still hosting Bryan and Diana’s engagement party. That only pisses Enrique off. The two of them are always in some type of pissing contest. I listen to the insults they throw at each other, despite being two floors down.

Anytime Thalia and Enrique bump heads, the rest of the front desk staff have to deal with the tension they create. I had already known this week would be hell. I am in my head about Adrian not recognizing me. I had barely slept the first night, trying to make sense of it. I hadn’t changed that much. He had seen me around after our breakup. Coincidently, he even walked into a party where I was sitting on Bryan’s lap. He looked at us and shook his head before leaving.

I settle on the idea that he got hit in the head while he was in prison. I knew from the countless times Thalia made me watch Blood In Blood Out that there were daily fights in prison. It’s possible he had suffered a concussion, and it messed with his memory. That seems better than having to admit that I had over-romanticized our short-lived relationship. It was a fling. He probably had a lot of flings. Either way, I need to let it go. It could work to my benefit if he had actually forgotten me because that would mean he’s unaware that I was Bryan’s alibi .

I clock into work and head to the front desk. It’s quiet tonight, but most Monday nights are. I have two fingernails still left with polish on them. I am already anticipating another awkward run in with Adrian. Yesterday, I ran into him coming down the stairs. His body was rock solid, and he just looked at me as if he could see through me before walking around me. Later, he called me Mariah, and I didn’t even correct him despite it being my biggest pet peeve with customers.

“Stop picking at your polish.” I turn to see Thalia coming down the stairs. “If Enrique sees you, he’ll crucify you, and then I’ll have to kill him for reals.”

I drop my hand, but she notices the concern on my face.

“What’s wrong? Is it Bryan, because I swear to God...”

“No. It’s okay,” I say more to myself than her. “I am honestly over it. I can’t avoid him forever, so if he shows up, I just need to confront this head on. It’s been six years, and I need to just get over it.” If Adrian can forget me in six years, then surely I can forget Bryan.

“It was an abusive relationship. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you should just get over it . You decide when and how you heal. Just stop eating your nail polish, okay?” She offers a genuine smile and we both laugh. She takes another look at me and sucks in a deep breath, her eyes double checking mine to make sure I’m really okay .

Thalia is the only person I feel comfortable enough to confess all the things that Bryan had done to humiliate me. Fucking me in front of his friends while they video recorded it, offering his friends blow jobs and asking me to pay off his drug debts with my body. I willingly did those things, but I always felt dirty afterwards. I was always afraid if I said no, that he would break things off with me.

It wasn’t until he broke up with me that I started to recognize how manipulative the entire situation was.

The first night I told her about everything he would have me do, she was pissed. Then her anger turned to sadness, and she hugged me while we both cried. One of the first and only times both of us had cried like that. One of the only times I let myself cry, despite my mother’s voice lingering in my head. You look ugly when you cry.

Thalia told me that night that she understood what it felt like to have a man destroy you. I knew she meant her father. She never talked about that part of her life, but I knew there was a lot she had suffered at his hands. I never pushed her to talk about it. I let her be a closed book when it came to her emotions. Not all of us can feel and express ourselves the way Alma does.

“If they show up unannounced, just let me know. I don’t care what Enrique says. I will feed him his own balls for dinner. ”

“Feeding who balls?” I hear the deep voice and glance over my shoulder to see Adrian. His big brown eyes meet mine, and I quickly turn my head back to my desk. He towers over my five-foot frame from behind, and I can feel the warmth of him radiating outwards. I don’t have to look to know he’s scowling at me. It is his common facial expression whenever I am in his vicinity.

Thalia turns to stand in front of the desk, facing both of us. Her eyes narrow as she stares at him. While I know she wants a relationship with her brother, I also know she is the last person to beg for anything. I can already see the fury in her eyes as she looks him over. She is still in fight mode.

“He speaks! Frankenstein’s monster speaks and blesses us with his presence,” she says, as she exaggerates her arms opening to the fake crowd.

Adrian reaches over me and grabs the maintenance clipboard in front of me. It’s quick, but something builds inside me as his body heat envelops me. He smells like Tres Flores Pomade–a mix of jasmine and chrysanthemum. I inhale him, remembering that familiar scent. He barely skims my ass, and I feel tingles run through my body. My cheeks flush, and I refuse to turn back toward him.

“I’m not Enrique. I refuse to be insulted by some bélicona who looks like she fucks in graveyards for fun.” His insult gets his desired effect. I watch as the rage crashes over Thalia. Bélicona was Enrique’s favorite name for her when they were arguing. It made sense, since she was something of a narco princess who divulged in that lifestyle. She refused to be too relatable to a singular stereotype, though. She was chic, she was goth, and she was bélica.

She was fine referring to herself as that, but Enrique called her that out of spite. The same way my mother would call me ‘princess’ to mock me. Adrian calling her that clearly struck a nerve.

“Aww. How nice of you to notice my weekday hobbies.” She has that crazy look in her eyes. He walks away, and she grabs me and pulls me with her to follow him.

Adrian ignores her as he reaches into the fridge to grab a sandwich. Don Mario is in there eating his lunch, and Adrian sits in the chair next to him. I try not to stare at Adrian too long, but there’s something about the way he has matured since I saw him last. His body is fuller and muscular. My eyes nervously scan him from head to toe before I look away.

I memorize his features in the short glimpse. His brown eyes and long lashes, the mole under his left eyebrow, the tattoos scattered across his neck and arms. He wears an all-white shirt, a gold chain, and blue Dickies pants. He keeps his hair as I remember, cut short and faded on the sides. He continues to eat his food, starting a conversation with Don Mario. I can see the mischief on Thalia’s face. She pulls me to sit next to her at the table across from Adrian.

“Mireya, how incredibly rude of me. I almost forgot to introduce you two. This is my half brother, Adriano. Adriano, this is my best friend, Mireya.”

He keeps on his facade as he smiles at me and extends his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Like a complete idiot, I take his hand and shake it. The warmth of my hand in his brings back the tingles from earlier. I pull my hand back quickly and look away.

“You know Mireya grew up in the same neighborhood as you?” she says accusatorily, and I feel humiliated for her and me. What the hell is she doing? He wipes the mayo from the side of his lip, and I watch like it’s the first time I’d seen porn. He licks his lip, and the act is so seductive I am convinced this is now a kink of mine.

Note-to self: research sandwich eating kink later .

When he speaks, his voice is low and husky.

“I don’t remember seeing her, but then again, I was in prison for six years.” He stares straight at me. Fire blazes in his eyes, and the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Don Mario breaks the silence when he opens a beer. Enrique has told him several times he can’t drink on the job, but he doesn’t care. We turn to look at him and listen to the weird noises he makes as he chugs the beer down.

“Anyone want a cookie?” he says and pulls out a box of cookies dusted in powdered sugar. He offers one to Adrian first, who takes a bite. He pushes the box towards Thalia and me, and we each take one. Then, in a matter of seconds, Adrian leans forward and smacks the cookie out of my hand. Thalia jumps up, ready to fight him, but he just walks past us and throws away his trash before exiting the break room. But not before he turns around and looks right at me.

“They have orange zest in them.”

“Orange zest? What the fuck is he talking about?” Thalia shouts.

“I’m allergic to oranges,” I whisper. Even Thalia forgot this, despite me telling her about it a thousand times. So, he does remember me.